The world is on fire,
melting the ice in my soul.
The Gods tower above me,
With eyes black as coal.
What obsession is this?
Where do I go now?
Treading water.
trying to keep my vow.
Doing what's best.
What's the greater good?
I'd change it all,
if only I could.
Halfway to the end,
but now I'm not sure.
So many things
I try to endure.
Friction burns my hands,
slowing down my descent.
I should have told them,
that's not what I meant.
About the Creator
Debra Herrington
I've been writing since I was 16, I use poetry as a means of expressing my opinions and feelings.
Keep reading
More stories from Debra Herrington and writers in Poets and other communities.
The Devil's Triangle
The sails ruffled in the breeze as we cruised along. The Sea Breeze was a mid-size catamaran that sailed out of Royal Naval Dockyard in Bermuda. We had booked this trip weeks in advance and were now looking at our Captain, Spike and two boat hands. Paddy and Wilson seemed like nice guys, joking around with the passengers and telling us some stories about Bermuda that only locals would know. Their island accents sounded almost British but they were pleasant to listen to.
By Barbara Gode Wilesabout 23 hours ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.